by Ryan Kirk
Dunne, in particular, had little patience for Alena’s recovery. “Can you stop her?”
No, Alena signed. When she saw the expression of dismay on Dunne’s face, she hurried to explain. “It’s not the queen.”
“Then what’s happening?”
“I don’t know. There’s something wrong with the gate itself.”
Dunne made a dismissive gesture. “That gate has stood for longer than our legends. There is nothing wrong with it.”
Alena saw no point in arguing, especially with Dunne. So she sought knowledge, instead. “What do your legends tell of the gate?”
Sooni made a questioning gesture, indicating her uncertainty. “Those are stories only told among the elders.” She looked meaningfully toward Dunne.
“True,” Dunne said. “And so they shall stay.”
Alena pressed. “You summoned me here to help. Perhaps I can, but I know little about the gates. They are secreted away within the empire.”
Dunne waved a dismissive hand. “This was a foolish idea from the beginning.” She made to leave.
“I believe her,” Toren said, stopping Dunne in her tracks. He didn’t elaborate, but his corroboration seemed to surprise the elder.
Sooni chimed in. “She’s come this far. You wouldn’t send a warrior into battle without their stones. Why do you ask her to solve this problem without your knowledge?”
Dunne glared at them all, but she didn’t move. She looked at Alena for a long moment before speaking. “Ask your questions.”
Alena took a deep breath to restrain herself. She had dozens. “What are the gates? When were they made, and by whom?” She stopped before she asked more.
“No one knows exactly what the gates are,” Dunne answered. “They were built in a time before legend by those who came before.”
Alena hid her disappointment. Too often her questions were met with more questions. “Who were those that came before?”
Dunne glanced at Sooni, as though questioning Alena’s competence. “The empire erased its history prior to Anders I,” Sooni said. “She knows nothing.”
Dunne sighed, clearly disappointed to be forced into the role of a teacher of basic information. “We do not know who they were, but they predate the empire, the Etari, and the Falari. For all we know, they existed long before the Lolani as well. From what survives, we know they were masters of the world, more powerful than we can imagine. They built the gates, and long ago, they disappeared.”
“How?”
“No one knows.”
Alena thought of the path into the mountains outside Landow and the tunnels underneath those mountains. They too must have been built by those that came before.
“Do you know when they lived?”
“We’re not sure. At least five hundred years ago. Perhaps as many as a thousand. The stories are unclear.”
“Do you know why the gates were built?”
“We have one story that tells of a threat from the skies. We do not know if it is a true story, but it is one that comes from our earliest days.”
Jace shook his head. “Like giant birds?” His skepticism was clear.
“Perhaps. Our story simply said that the greatest threat of all is from the skies. Some wondered if there is a link between the gates and that threat, although we know nothing for certain.”
Alena understood her brother’s skepticism, but who was she to say? Many years ago she might have been more critical of Dunne’s answers, but if she’d learned one lesson, it was that the world was far stranger than she’d imagined.
The gates had a purpose, even if she couldn’t guess at it. They must have been difficult to build. And the power they summoned was immense. It took almost all her skill to simply skim across the top of that power. To harness it and direct it remained well beyond her ability.
Dunne still knew more. Alena was sure of it. “How did the gate shatter?”
“That is a story we do know.” Dunne fixed her with a piercing stare. “A soulwalker shattered it.”
Alena’s breath caught in her throat. “Who?”
“A woman named Zolene. An Etari.”
“You had Etari soulwalkers?”
“Her generation was the last, but yes.”
“That’s why you detest us.”
Yes. “Among other reasons.”
“What happened?”
“Zolene was the greatest soulwalker the Etari ever produced. Stories of her abilities are still passed among the elders as a warning. But she was disciplined and Etari to her very heart. She served the people.”
Dunne paused to sip at her own tea. “This was over two hundred years ago, but rumor reached us of a man growing in power, a man to the east bringing one fiefdom after another to their knees.”
“Anders I,” Alena whispered.
“Yes. The other elders thought little of the trouble, for it didn’t concern us. But Zolene alone argued against the prevailing wisdom. She claimed Anders I had awakened a power long dormant. A power that would change everything.”
Some of the mystery began to clear. “He discovered how to use the gates.”
Yes. “At the time, Cardon didn’t exist. This land was considered sacred. We had our stories of the gate, but none attempted to harness its power.”
Alena had some idea where this was going. “And Zolene wished to do so.”
“She did. Through the gate she was the one who placed the working on the border, the one who taught us how to sense disturbances within it. Then one day, without explanation, she ran to the gate and embraced it. The stories say she stood there for three full days. The gate glowed brighter than the sun and burned any who came close. But she remained.
“And on the third day observers reported that the earth and sky tore open. What was left was a shattered gate. Some of Zolene’s pupils realized some small power of the gate could be channeled through the debris. It was their last gift to the people. The elders determined that from that day the practice of soulwalking was too dangerous to practice.”
Alena considered the story. In her own history lessons, teachers said that Anders had never found the Etari land valuable enough to conquer. But Dunne’s stories implied a different truth. Perhaps Zolene had beaten him in a battle between their gates.
“What about Zolene?”
“She was never seen again. Her body wasn’t found, but no one close to that disaster could have survived.”
Every answer unveiled another mystery.
But her course was clear. The Etari relied on their gatestones. If the gate failed, the Etari would struggle to defend themselves against an attack. If the Lolani came again, the Etari would be overrun. “I’d like to continue working with the gate.”
Sooni looked pleased to hear it, but Dunne less so. “Are you certain that’s wise? The gate, even shattered, is not an object to take lightly.”
“I don’t. But if I give up, I fear your gatestones will fail. If I can prevent that, I will.”
Dunne stared at her for several long moments. “Then continue. Speak with me after every attempt, even if little happens. I want to know everything.”
“I will.”
Sooni and Dunne stood up and left together. They weren’t more than a few steps out the door when Jace turned angrily on her. “Why would you do that?”
She held up a hand to stall him. “I’m the only one who can help.”
“But you’re risking your life for the Etari!”
Alena answered his outbursts with quiet certitude. “I know.”
They glared at each other, but Jace broke first. “We should leave. This isn’t our problem.”
Alena stepped closer to him and grabbed his hand. “They are my family, too. Do you understand what that means to me?”
He took a deep, shuddering breath. “I do.”
“Then I need your support. This is hard enough as it is.”
Jace looked up, determination in his gaze. “You want me to anchor you again?”
She
could tell how much he feared the idea, but she also knew he would volunteer without a second thought.
She shook her head. “I don’t think so.”
Alena saw relief and wounded pride war on his face.
“Whatever is happening inside that gate is powerful. You got a taste of what I felt today. In time, I think I can defend against it. But you can’t. And if I make a mistake, I will not let our parents lose both their children.”
“Don’t talk like that.”
“I’m being pragmatic.”
Beside them, Toren spoke up. “I’ll do it.”
They stopped in mid-argument, glancing over at the Etari soulwalker. Alena was ashamed to realize she’d forgotten he was there.
Alena weighed her options. Though they hadn’t known each other long, she trusted Toren. He didn’t speak much, but his words were earnest. Having another soulwalker might be a great help. It wasn’t like she knew what she was doing.
Alena stopped Jace from protesting again. “Jace, I know. I do. But your skills and ability are in this world. Will you protect my body when we visit the gate again?”
She’d been expecting him to struggle, but she was surprised how hard he wrestled with the problem. Finally, he acquiesced.
With that settled, Alena turned to Toren. “Get your rest. Tomorrow morning we’re going to attempt the gate again.”
19
After the board game, the Falari provided a meal to the visiting warriors. As Brandt and Ana finished their final scraps, the swordsman who had dueled Regar the day before came to join them. “Regar claims you two are the strongest warriors who joined him on this journey.”
“He is kind to say so,” Ana replied.
“Would you do me the honor of training with me this afternoon?”
Brandt, suspecting a trap, shook his head. “We are honored by your invitation, but no steel is to be drawn in this town.”
Ren didn’t relent. “The prohibition doesn’t apply to practice weapons. If it eases your mind, we can speak to Weylen before.”
On another day Brandt might have resisted longer, but this, at least, was something he could do. They did speak with Regar and Weylen, seated together near the head of the table. Both rulers gave their permission.
Ren led them through town, and Brandt seized the opportunity to ask the questions he hadn’t had anyone to ask. Ren was the first Falari who spoke imperial they’d had any time with. Ren told them the town was larger than most, and that not all Falari lived in towns. Many, it seemed, preferred a more nomadic life in the mountains, far closer to what Brandt had originally envisioned.
Children played in the street. Some games seemed familiar. In one, children chased and tried to tackle one child holding a ball. Whenever the ball was dropped or forced out, another child would pick it up and become the target of all. Then they turned a corner and saw two youths, a boy and a girl, squaring off against one another, short wooden practice swords in hand. Brandt stopped to watch them.
The boy had the edge in size, but after the first pass it was clear the girl’s speed surpassed her opponent’s. Three passes later the boy had three new bruises to show for his efforts. Ren excused himself and approached the pair, offering advice to both. The children listened attentively and nodded as he spoke.
Ana spoke softly. “Physicality and combat appear to be at the heart of most of their games.”
Brandt nodded. His own thoughts ran in the same direction.
Ren returned and led them to the ground floor of a larger building. They stepped into the largest space Brandt had seen in town. Its polished floors and weapons-laden walls made its purpose perfectly clear.
Behind them, Brandt heard the sound of dozens of young voices. He turned to see a small army of children running toward the training hall. Ren smiled. “I hope you don’t mind that I invited guests.”
Brandt stood speechless as the children piled in. Each put a fist to their heart as they entered the space. They took spaces along a wall without a whisper. For all the rambunctious behavior Brandt had observed on the way here, he couldn’t imagine a more disciplined group inside the training hall. They made the imperial military seem lax in comparison.
“Shall we begin?” Ren asked.
Ana stepped forward. “I’ll be your first opponent.”
Brandt appreciated the gesture. Though he no longer suspected a trap, having Ana go first allowed him to observe Ren’s style. It gave him the space to decide how much of his own skill to display to the swordsman.
Ana selected a practice sword from the wall, testing its weight. When she was satisfied, she met Ren in the center of the room. Brandt stood alone against a wall opposite the children. They looked as interested in the outcome of this fight as he was, if not more so.
From the fight against Regar, Brandt assumed this match would be close. Ren raised his fist to heart and Ana returned the gesture.
Then the match began, and Brandt’s assumption proved correct. Ren was skilled, and fast.
He’d also been holding back against Regar. Brandt realized that fact after two passes.
If Ana was surprised, she didn’t show it. Practice swords met and broke apart, each combatant seeking an opening.
Brandt should have watched Ren, but he found his gaze drawn to Ana. Her martial arts had improved considerably over the past few years. When they were wolfblades, Ana had been plenty skilled, but a certain timidity had held her back. With her water affinity she often found herself in supporting roles on their missions.
Landow had changed her.
Her lithe body evaded Ren’s cuts, her own sword darting at him like an angry snake, forcing him back.
Now she fought with confidence.
Not the false confidence of a guaranteed victory, but the confidence that came from knowing exactly what she was capable of.
The swords clacked together. Brandt saw how Ana manipulated her internal energies. When she needed speed, she became light. But when she needed strength her lightness vanished and she rooted her feet to the ground.
The technique was risky, and almost impossible to perform consistently. One mistake, one lapse in focus, and she was just as likely to hurt herself as Ren.
The duel continued. Brandt saw the openings he’d exploit when he and Ren met.
If Ana let the Falari warrior stand.
Eventually the two fighters broke apart. Brandt hadn’t kept track of touches, but he’d seen both warriors make contact with the other. They repeated the fists-to-heart gesture and the wall of children erupted in cheers.
Ren spoke to the children in Falari. Though Brandt couldn’t understand the words, he recognized a lesson when he saw one. Ren spoke with the cadence of a practiced teacher.
Beside him, Ana was beaming from ear to ear. Sweat poured off her, but she hadn’t looked so happy in days. “He was still holding back. He’s good.”
Brandt nodded. He’d wondered as much. “You fought well.”
Brandt watched his wife as she brushed the sweat from her eyes. At that moment he wanted nothing more than a private space and time alone with her. Sober, this time.
But that wasn’t to be, at least not for a while.
Ren welcomed him to the floor. Like Ana, Brandt searched for a wooden sword he felt most familiar with.
Brandt considered how best to approach the duel. Knowing the Falari respect for warriors, he decided not to hold back.
Their first pass ended in a heartbeat. Ren came in with a quick but light cut. Brandt knocked it off line and stabbed at Ren’s heart, scoring the first touch.
Ren was surprised, but not offended. His own smile grew as he understood Brandt didn’t intend to restrain himself.
They met again. As Ana had predicted, Ren had been holding back. He was faster and stronger than he’d shown against Ana.
It made no difference.
Brandt scored again and again. Ren couldn’t match his strength, speed, and accuracy, and years of daily practice allowed Brandt to know exact
ly when to move and where to strike. The duel ended quickly, but this time there were no cheers. The students sat openmouthed along the wall.
Ren chuckled as he brought his fist to his heart. “If the empire was filled with warriors as skilled as you, no Falari would dare cross the border.”
Brandt appreciated the compliment. It eased, a little, the helplessness he’d felt over the past few weeks.
Ren took no offense at being bested. Instead, he worked with Brandt to teach the children. Brandt only understood parts of the lesson, but Ren explained why he had been beaten.
The students were nearly ideal. They listened intently, asking questions and practicing on their own as Ren instructed. Brandt and Ana ended up teaching for most of the afternoon.
Two thoughts dominated Brandt’s mind as he taught. The first was that combat knew no language barriers. Without words, he could correct a student’s form, and many of Ren’s students were quick studies. The second was that the Falari continued to surprise him. That they were dedicated to the pursuit of war came as no surprise. The empire had known that since it had been founded. What surprised him was how welcoming they could be.
Part of him worried that he might someday be training those who would fight against the empire. But the emperor had sent them here to make peace and find an agreement. This, at least, felt like a step in the right direction.
They left the training hall in time for the evening meal. Again Brandt found himself seated in front of a plate of wonderful food. Ren hadn’t left his side since their training, and he seemed as fascinated by Brandt’s life and world as Brandt was with his.
As they spoke, Brandt realized Ren had never crossed the border. “You’ve never been to the empire, have you?”
Ren hesitated for a moment, but Brandt didn’t think his uncertainty had to do with Brandt’s impolite manners. Brandt had stumbled upon something, a truth he hadn’t understood yet. Finally, Ren shook his head. “Warriors from this town patrol the border, but we never cross. We never raid.”
“Never?”
“Not even Weylen.”
Brandt frowned. This village wasn’t more than a week from the border, and he was certain the imperial outpost they’d left from had experienced nearby raids in the past few years. At least some of them had to have come from here.